


The Journal Entries

by okayatbest



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Bullying, Child Abuse, Depression, Explicit Language, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor death, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1992942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayatbest/pseuds/okayatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes movies and books fool us into thinking we need someone to come save us. Some guy or girl to come in and make us fall in love with them. Then you run away together, right.</p>
<p>But how can you be saved when it's really yourself you want to leave? Yourself who is slowly poisioning you. Destroying you.</p>
<p>That's the question Niall is trying to solve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Journal

**Author's Note:**

> I own absolutely nothing but my words and ideas.
> 
> I'm doing this out of complete boredom, and for nothing else.
> 
> Italics are journal entries from the future.

_Dear Journal,_

_First off, this is a journal. Not a diary._

_Secondly, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here._

_See, my name’s Niall, and you could say that my life has been a pretty interesting one. Okay, maybe not that interesting, but meaningful. At least to me._

_It all started when I first moved to America. I was only four. My parents moved here from Ireland for my dad’s job. I was lonely at first. I remember the other kids at school would pick on me because of my accent. They’d call me leprechaun with so much disgust in their voices. I soon stopped trying to make friends. It seemed nearly impossible so I stopped caring._

_Then the unthinkable happened. My dad died in a car accident. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest by a bear. I remember crying nonstop for days. I was absolutely devastated. Don’t get me wrong, I loved my mom, I really did. But mom and I weren’t extremely close, not like I was with my dad. And after his death she became more withdrawn. I had to began taking care of myself, because she was too broken. I was an adult by the age of nine. At least it felt that way. I lost two parents in that fucking accident._

_Going back to school was even more hard. Now instead of stares filled with disgust, they were filled with pity. That was the last thing I wanted; pity from the very people who tried their hardest to make my life a living hell for so long. Yeah, no thanks. Now you’re probably thinking this is the part where some new kid comes in and saves me from my terrible life. Well, you’re wrong. Niall Horan does his own saving. Of course I had people in my corner cheering me on. But I made it here, where I am today, on my own. And yeah, there were times when I thought all I needed was someone to come save me from everyone, but I quickly realized that I only needed saving from myself. And I had to fix that. It was difficult. So fucking difficult, but somehow I made it._

_But, there was a boy. Of course there was. But he came in much later. Much, much later. But he still came. And unlike so many other people in my life, he stayed._


	2. Home

A crash. A loud, drunken crash to be specific. That’s the first thing NIall hears. The second is the loud cursing. Looks like Peter’s home. Niall gets out of his bed slowly, as to not draw any attention to himself. He peeps out his door and catches Peter making his way down the hall to the master bedroom. Well, as much of a master bedroom you can get in a shitty place like this. Niall tries not to dwell too hard on the state of the place. He refuses to call it home. Home was were he lived with his dad and mom. Home is where he was surrounded by love and happiness, not by empty beer bottles and cigarette ashes. No. This place was a temporary place. He would stay for as long as he needed to. But as soon as the time came he was out of here. And hopefully this place would become just a terrible memory that Niall would hide from everyone and pray and hope to forget. Hide it in the place back in his brain where he kept all of his other troubled memories.

  
Not hearing any telling noises, Niall slowly crawls back in bed. Falling into yet another restless slumber.

 

_Fifteen. That’s how old I was when mom first brought Peter back to the house. I’m not sure where she met these men, but he surely wasn't the first one. And when I first met him, I was sure he wouldn't be the last, but I was wrong. I remember the way he smelled. That was the first thing I noticed. Cigarette mixed with whiskey. I remember feeling a bit frightened by him. A feeling I never felt with any of the other men she brought back. That probably should have been my warning. But I was still a bit naive back then. Even if I never did admit it._

 

_She wouldn't stop talking about him. That’s how I realized that Peter was different. Mom would say little things about how charming he was, or how he was so rich, and blah, blah,blah. In my defense after six years I learned that it was easier for me to block my mom out. I wish I had listen more that day._

 

_When I was sixteen Peter moved in. They wanted us all to celebrate. We went out to eat. I remember not eating much at the restaurant. Not because I was upset but after going days without eating, the smell of food would sometimes throw me off. But I ate a little. I had a feeling Peter was the type of person I didn’t want on my case. And I was only sixteen, so I couldn't leave yet. Looking across the table at my mom also had me staying. No matter what happened, I thought I would be the one who had to save her. It was until later that I realize that she could only save herself. I could hand her the cure, but she still had to be the one to swallow it. Still, I feel like I let her down._

 

_Five months later, we move. My mom and Peter drank all of our money away. Money my dad had saved for my college. Turns out Peter wasn’t rich. We moved into some two bedroom building. Honestly, I don’t know how that place was even allowed to be sold. It was completely run down. I knew then that things were never going to go back to the way they were before. I knew then that I had lost._

 

_Seventeen. That’s when he first hit me. I remember they were fighting. Like they always did. However, this time was different. This time it was my fault. Somehow, I’m not even sure now,he found out I was gay. Although, it’s not like I really tried hiding it. I wasn't ashamed, I just didn't see the point in telling anyone. I had no one to tell. But he found out. And he blew up. I remember every single word that was spat out at me. But I refuse to record them here. My mom, told him to quit yelling. Sadly, not because she was trying to protect me, but because she was hungover with a headache. Peter didn't appreciate being told to shut up. So, he started yelling at her._

_I know my mom made many mistakes after my dad died and I had to become her caretaker, but she was my mom. And it hurts to know that someone who was suppose to love you and take care of you just gave up. I know she did some pretty shitty things. But then I remember seeing her broken, drunk from one of her nights out. Hearing her moan and groan about how much she missed dad. How much she loved me and was sorry she was like this, swearing up and down this was her last time. She’d be a mom again. She’d be my mom again. Well, that makes me feel like shit for even thinking about the possibility of hating her. I was always weaker around her. I see that know. It was always my biggest problem._

  
_I did something that night that I had never done before in my life. And even though i suffered for it for so long, I still don’t regret. I fought back. Not like all those other times when I hung my head ignoring the whispers and the stares and the name calling. I fought back. And it felt great. Even after Peter turned in shock and even after he started hitting and kicking. Even after I sat in my bed, cleaning the blood off of myself, and icing my swollen face, I never regretted it. I’m still  not sure if that was part of my blessing or curse._


	3. The Meeting

_Times got harder. Even after I started feeling like maybe I could get through this. Maybe if I kept standing up for myself life would get better. It didn’t. Peter grew more cruel and my mom drunk more. I quickly realized that I didn’t have to do anything to get yelled at. One time I yawned and he slapped me and told me to shut up. And my mom, well, she caught my hopeless stare towards her and told me to yawn quietly next time. That’s when I knew that it was over. I had truly failed. I could never help her. She didn’t want to be helped. She was too far gone. I realized that there was nothing for me there anymore. My mom was gone and left in her place was a drunken replacement. It hurt because unlike with my dad, I couldn’t truly say that my mom was in a better place. Deep down inside I knew that she was trapped inside herself with no key to be found. However, I did know that my mom, my real mom, wouldn’t want me there. She never wanted me to suffer; always did her best to makes sure I felt as little pain as possible. This wasn’t the life she nor my dad ever wanted me to have. I know that if she could have, if she could have found a way out of that cage for a second, she would have told me to go and never look back. So I did._

_At eighteen I left._

_I had no plan, hardly any money, and I was scared. I had no one to go to. No one to help me. Since my dad’s death the only people I was ever really around were my mom and Peter and the kids at schooled. No one who would take me in. I was truly alone. And I felt it. I think that night was the first night I cried for myself. I had cried for my dad and I had cried for my mom. But I had never cried for myself. But now I could. Because I was depending on myself now. And at that moment, I was lost._

_About two weeks later, I met him. I remember that day so well. Sadly, it wasn’t like in the movies. e didn’t find me and take care of me and then we just fell in love. Yeah he helped me, but I wasn’t ready. And I don’t think he was either, no matter what he says. But life is interesting in the way that sometimes you meet someone and it’s not the right time, so you leave and figure your crap out. And if you really want it, you go back. and you better pray that they want it, too._

__  
  


The small jacket did nothing to warm Niall from the cold October wind. And his bag was a horrible pillow for his head. But the bench looked really comfortable compared to his place next to the old building. At least he had this place to himself. Sleep wasn’t exactly what he expected to get. He just wanted to rest his body a little. Niall wanted to start walking in the morning and he needed all the strenght he could get. Barely even fifteen minutes of lying there, Niall felt a poke. Actually, several pokes. Niall, slowly crawled up and was greeted with an eskimo Okay, not literally. But the thing in front of him looked like they were prepared for a blizzard. And yeah, it was cold, But it wasn’t freezing. NIall felt that they were being a bit dramatic.

 

“You can’t sleep here,” the eskimo’s voice was muffled by their thick, green scarf.

 

Finally starting to really wake up, Niall cleared his throat so he could speak. “Not with you poking me.”

 

“No, I mean, it’s,” the stranger seemed to be having a difficult time talking and seemed mad at himself for some reason. “I mean it’s cold out here, and you’re not allowed to sleep here. People search the park at night to make sure no one’s sleeping on the benches.”

 

And Niall kind of feels bad, because of course they would check the park at night. He should have thought of that. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll get my stuff and leave.” As NIall started gathering his stuff, which wasn’t a lot, he realized that the guy, it was surely a guy with that deep voice, was still standing there. And to be honest, he looked conflicted. “Are you okay, mate?”

 

Green eyes widened and met NIall’s. “I, um, you.” Niall watched as the now frustrated stranger sighed. “Are you homeless?”

 

Niall really wasn’t expecting that. He thought it was pretty clear, but still people usually didn’t flat out ask that.

 

NIall must have either had a strange look on his face or his silence was too long, because the stranger quickly started talking. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m so stupid. I say things I shouldn’t say sometimes. I can’t help it. And sometimes I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Kind of like now and I’ll shut up now.”

 

If the guy didn’t seem so frantic, Niall probably would have giggled, but something told him that it really wasn’t a smart idea. “It’s fine. I am homeless. I just never had anyone ask me before, but it’s all cool. And you’re not stupid, it’s actually kind of cute.” Niall worried that he was being too forward, but by the blush on the stranger’s face, he was pretty sure he was good.

 

“Well, I don’t know about that last part, but I’m sorry you’re homeless. I mean. Crap! That was stupid. I, just, hold on.” Niall should have probably been a bit scared, but the guy honestly seemed harmless. Once the guy seemed to have his thoughts together, he tried again. “Stay with me. No, that was supposed to be an invitation. Like, because it’s cold, but my place is close and warm and I swear I’m not hitting on you. I just don’t want you to freeze.”

 

“You barely know me, I could be a serial killer or something.”

 

This caused the stranger to laugh. “What’s your name?”  
  
Niall, a bit confused answered, “I’m Niall.”

 

“Well, there we go. I know that your name is Niall and I can tell by your accent that you’re Irish. It’s faint, but there.So, come with. Please.”

 

If he’s being honest, Niall’s not sure what it was that had him seriously thinking about it. Was it his cute voice with an accent Niall was sure was British? Maybe it was the puppy dog eyes thrown his way. It could have even be the “please” added on. Something had Niall answering “Okay, i'll go with you. But first you have to tell me your name. You have an unfair advantage.”

And with the brightest smile Niall had ever seen, the stranger answered, “Well, I’m Harry.” . 


	4. A New Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter probably sucks because I'm trying not to rush things. Apparently I suck at that. But now since they've met and are more comfortable around each other the next chapter should hopefully be better. Also, this chapter is kind of short. Please don't hate me. And please don't let this sucky chapter change your opinion on the entire story. If I have it my way, this story is nowhere near finished. 
> 
> And thanks for everyone who is actually reading this story. Because that's really cool!!!

The walk to Harry’s house wasn't as bad as Niall had first thought it would be. Niall could tell Harry was nervous by the way he continued to play with his gloved hands. Honestly, Niall would be nervous too if he was Harry. What sane person allowed someone they didn't know stay with them at their place? Either Harry was incredibly sweet or incredibly crazy. Possibly both. That thought had Niall considering his own decision. Who actually agreed to go stay with a stranger at their place? Niall thought that perhaps they both were insane and belonged with each other. 

Harry wasn't lying when he said he lived close. After hardly ten minutes of walking, they arrived at a little apartment building. Thankfully Harry lived on the second floor and they could quickly reach it by stairs. Niall never really liked elevators. 

“This is my place,” Harry informed Niall when they reached their destination. After Harry opened the door and allowed Niall in first, Niall could see that the place wasn’t necessarily big. Actually, it was a little on the small side. But seriously almost anything could beat the cold outdoors. And it wasn't like Niall had never lived in a small place before. But he tried not to think about those days anymore. “It’s a bit small, but the, um, the sofa pulls out. I also have a bed, that you could sleep in if you prefer. I mean, not like with me. I mean I can sleep on the sofa and you can sleep in my bed?” The last sentence was more of a question and Niall kind of felt bad for some reason. He wasn't really sure what made the curly haired boy so nervous, but he felt like it could be his fault, and Niall hated to be a burden. He also hated to be pitied, but he didn't really feel like he was being pitied right now. He wasn't really sure why Harry offered to help him out, but he was thankful. 

“The sofa will be fine, seriously. You just saw me resting on a park bench. Do you really think I would demand bed rights?” At that, Harry seemed to relax a bit and even allowed a dimpled smile to form on his face. 

“Okay, good. Now with that settled, I’ll make dinner. I was planning on making spaghetti if that’s good with you?” again, a nervousness came from Harry that Niall didn't really like.

“Dude, it’s fine seriously. You don’t have to keep doing that. You literally just saved me out there. I could have frozen to death if it wasn't for you.”

“I truly doubt that. But okay.” And Niall doubted it too, but the smile and ease he was rewarded with from Harry made the lie much better. 

That night they ate a delicious meal of spaghetti and Niall even got the grand tour of Harry’s place. Apparently it was a two bedroom, one was obviously Harry’s room which was a pretty big room with a nice king sized bed and was decorated nicely, but the other was used as an office of sorts. NIall wasn't sure about the kind of job Harry could have where he needed an office, but he didn't want to pry. He also found it odd that Harry didn't actually show him the room, but had just pointed towards the closed door. Harry also showed him the bathroom, which was actually a nice sized one. It had a separate shower which was pretty big, as well as the tub. After the tour, Harry suggested that they watch some television before they went to sleep. They both sat at opposite sides on the sofa, but it wasn't really awkward. After some time had passed, Niall realized that Harry was the first person he had sat with and enjoyed watching tv with since his dad had died. And for the first time since his death, the thought of his dad didn't leave him with a sinking feeling. That realization scared Niall more than anything else.

 

*****

 

Living with Harry proved to be nice. It had hardly been a week, but they somehow made it worked. Since that first night they settled into a nice little routine. Niall wasn't sure what Harry did that had him leaving home at nine in the morning and coming home around four, but Niall thought it was best to wait and see if Harry would ever tell him. And considering that Harry had yet to bring up the homeless thing, well, Niall thought he should keep his own questions to himself. If Harry was asking questions, neither would he. 

But other than those questions being avoided, everything was great. They quickly realized they both had an interest in music and also golf. Niall told Harry of how he remembered going golfing with his dad when he was younger. Harry hadn't asked why the trips had stopped, but Niall thought it could have been because of the edge to his voice when he mentioned his father. And when Harry mention singing songs with his mom back home, well, Niall refrained from asking too much about the sadness that was evident in Harry’s voice. For the whole first week they avoided the silences that would come and the sad eyes that would sometimes show. But because of these moments, Niall quickly learned that Harry was very touchy. Whenever the curly haired boy felt that Niall was upset, he would quickly wrap Niall in his arms or just pull him closer towards him, or sometimes he would simply hold his hand. At first Niall was startled by the touches. After his dad’s death, touches stopped. No hugs, no kisses, nothing. And afterward touches equaled the punch of Peter fist or the kick of his feet. Niall hated touches. But Harry’s made him think of the touches he had so long ago. Hugs from his mom; his dad patting the top of his head. Touches that equaled love. And Niall obviously wasn't saying that Harry’s touched meant love, but maybe just kindness. And Niall hadn't had that in a long time. So, Niall became more open with touches. And before he realized it, sometimes he and Harry would be watching television nearly cuddling with each other and Niall quickly realized he was okay with that. It also made Harry happy, which really made Niall Happy.


	5. Through the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Not even a full day has passed and I've added another chapter already. Improvement. :)
> 
> Anyway, I named this chapter after One Direction's song. I thought it seemed fit for more than one reason. Maybe that'll become a thing from now on.
> 
> This chapter finally had more dialogue. I realized that the story was missing that. Although, this may be too much dialogue. It did however make the chapter a bit longer. So that's good. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and please leave feedback, even if you didn't like it. Thanks for reading :)

Living with Harry proved to be nice. Niall didn't want to admit it, but he was really nervous that first night. Yeah Harry seemed like a really nice guy, but Niall had stopped trusting people so easily a long time ago. Funnily enough, Niall realized he was slowly starting to trust Harry, even though he hardly knew him. He found out that Harry was only twenty years old, he had moved to America after he turned eighteen, and he worked at a library. Niall thought that it was only right to tell Harry information about him, too. He was staying in the man’s house after all. So Niall talked about his dad and even about his death. He tried to gloss over as much as he could after that. He talked of how his mom had a hard time with his father’s death. When asked how he became homeless, Niall just told Harry that he and Peter never really got along, so he left at eighteen. Of course they could both tell that the other wasn't telling the whole story, but they also knew that a new level of trust had been made. 

Niall also realized how much closer they were getting, physically as well as emotionally. The cuddles became more frequent and sometimes when Niall decided he should cook dinner for the night, he would find Harry watching him from somewhere and then would feel a single touch from Harry’s hand on the bottom of his back. Niall hated to admit that he kind of enjoyed all of these new touches. The attention Niall received from Harry was something Niall had tried forgetting he missed. So, if Niall sometimes caught himself being the one to initiate the touching, well, Harry sure didn't mind.

 

*****

 

It had been two months of Niall being Harry’s roommate. And tonight they sat cuddled together on the couch with Harry sitting with his back resting on the sofa arm and NIall sat right between his legs. Back to chest. They had soon realized that they both liked this position. Niall like the sense of protection and Harry seemed to like the idea of giving protection. 

“Harry, why do you have an office? I mean, most people with an office have a job that kind of requires that they sometime work from home. But you work at a library.”

As always, Harry seemed to go through a bit of trouble to give Niall an answer. “Well, um, it’s not like a real office. Like it’s more of, well, my safe haven, I guess.”

“What do you mean a safe haven?” 

More trouble and then, “Well, ah, as you probably have already realized, I have some issues. I mean, I have anxiety among other issues. Like, I hate interacting with people, but I also really like touching people. I mean, it’s like, it’s a way to get to know people other than through talking. And it works for me because talking to people proves to be difficult for me. So, i touch instead. But most people don’t like that.”

Shocked from Harry’s explanation, because seriously, that boy hardly ever talked, especially not that much, Niall turned in Harry’s arm to better see him. “So, what does all that have to do with your office”

Tightening his hold on NIall, but not looking at the boy, Harry continued, “Right, sorry. Well, sometimes my anxiety reaches new heights in certain situations. Sometimes it’s because I’m nervous from too many people, sometimes because people insist on yelling. I don’t really like yelling or really anything loud. That’s why I work at the library. No loud noises there, and I’m usually in the back, so not many interactions with people either. It’s kind of perfect.” Niall noticed Harry making a weird face, and realize that Harry must have realized that he had gotten off track again. “Anyway, the office is where I go to relax. I have a comfortable couch in there and sometimes I play music to soothe me. It’s basically a room where I force myself to get rid of all the stress and anxiety. It’s a peaceful room. Untainted. That’s why it’s usually shut. I don’t want this cruel world to poison it. Then where would I have to go?” After it seemed that Harry was finished, Niall turned completely and wrapped his arms around Harry. It still sometimes surprised Niall how he felt so much more comfortable with Harry then he usually did with new people. He liked to think that this hug was strictly because of Harry’s story. And when Harry finally wrapped his arms around Niall’s waist, Niall knew it was worth it.

Feeling more comfortable, Harry continued. “I started having these issues when I was around thirteen. No one could ever really say what caused them, so I had to go to many therapy sessions to try to figure it out. It never worked. And I can still remember how upset my mom would get. No one believed me when I said that nothing major had happened to cause it. I use to hate myself. I hated that I was causing people I loved so much pain. My mom could barely look at me because I wasn't her son anymore. I wasn't the son who would run around the house singing loudly. I wasn't the son who would have conversation with complete strangers. I wasn't the same anymore. And I knew that, but I guess I just thought that she would still love me.”

“Harry, I’m sure your mom still loves you. It’s not that easy to stop loving people. Believe me.”

“I know. I know that. But she stopped showing it. That’s why I moved here. I didn't want to give her a constant reminder of the screw up she had for a son.” All through Harry’s speech, he and Niall had yet to pull away from each other. But after Harry’s last confession, Niall had to be sure Harry could see Niall’s face. 

“Harry, look at me.” Niall waited for Harry’s eyes to meet his before he continued. “You are not a screw up. You couldn't help with what happened to you. Sometimes life just gives us a load of shit and we’re forced to shovel through it. But you’re not a screw up. I mean, look at you. You have your own place, and even with your anxiety you’re able to work. You're so focused on the bad that you miss out on all the good you’ve done.”

“Thanks Niall.”

Niall didn't know for sure if Harry believed him, but he thought after a confession liked that, he should give something in return. “My dad died when I was nine. It was a car accident. It hurt so much. As a child you kind of expect to always have your parents., you know. Like, they’re not suppose to die until they’re old and you've had grandchildren. But he did die. And I didn't understand. My mom had so much trouble. I think at first I was so focused on losing a dad, that I forgot that she lost a husband. I never had that , you know? Someone you truly want and believe you'll spend the rest of your life with. I can't imagine what it's like to realize that you've reached that "til death" part. I guess that's why I could never really blame her when she first started drinking. I guess i just told myself that she would eventually stop. I thought I would get my mom back, but I never did. She just kept drinking and she never stopped hurting. And at some point I started getting angry. Death fucking sucks, I get that. Believe me, I do. But I was nine and I had to become an adult. And not just for myself but for her, too. It’s an extremely difficult thing having to take care of your mother when she comes home drunk from being out all night. I had to quickly learn to stop asking her where she went each night. And then the men started coming and going. And that hurt, too. She just slept with all of these men in a home that use to have my dad in it. I’m still not sure how she was able to do that. And then Peter came and he never left. He used, he used to,” Niall choked up from all of the memories piling up and soon realized that Harry had been rubbing circles into his back. With all of the emotions in the air, Niall allowed himself to do something in front of Harry, that he hadn’t done since he was nine. He cried. And Harry held him. Niall could faintly hear Harry’s whispering in his ear. 

“It’s okay, Niall. We've been talking for hours. We can stop now and just cuddle until we fall asleep.”

As great as that sounded, Niall knew he had to continue. If he stopped now he would never be able to finish. He also knew that holding on to these memories would slowly kill him. He had to talk to someone. And Harry was the perfect person to do so with. “He used to hit me and kick me. And when he found out I was gay it escalated. He would call me names and my mom. My mom just sat there. Never helped me out. I was her baby and she never told him to stop. What kind of parent does that? It killed me every night to see her drunk out of her mind and she didn't even flinch when that bastard put his hands on me. And the funniest fucking thing out of it all is that I still love her. After all that shit, I love her. I never stopped. I hate how drunk she got. And I hate that my childhood stopped at age nine, but I can’t stop loving her. And I don’t know if that makes me a good son or a fucking masochist.” 

Niall hadn't expected Harry to say anything. He also didn't expect his little rant. But after nine years of being silent, he couldn’t stop himself. However, Harry was the perfect person to witness his rant. He didn't speak, but he held on to Niall. And he continue to hold on to him even after they both fell asleep on Harry’s couch. And when Niall woke up in the morning, with little snores in his ear, he realized that Harry hadn't left him.


	6. Not Like the Movies

_You know as a kid, you watched those stupid, cheesy romantic movies? The ones where someone has some sort of problem, maybe some baggage. But then some stranger comes and “fixes” them. And then they fall in love and maybe get married. Happily ever after, right?_

_Well, I remember watching those types of movie. I remember being sat right beside my cuddling parents. I remember believing everything those movies ever told me. I mean, why wouldn't I? All I had to do was look beside me and see the happiest couple I had ever known. Why couldn't love really “cure” someone? What I didn't realize is that love could cure someone. But what those movies had wrong was that the love had to come from yourself. Once you've loved yourself, accepted all of yourself, the healing can start. Sadly, I had to learn that the hard way. Nothing teaches you the importance of loving yourself, depending only on yourself, than seeing our mom find “happiness” in the bottom of a bottle and the arms of sleazy men._

 

As time went on, Niall became even more comfortable with his new place. Harry was able to get Niall a job with him at the library. It was a shock to Niall how quickly he was able to fit into Harry's life. Niall was starting to feel comfort he hadn't felt for years. He enjoyed the routine of waking up in the morning and getting ready for bed with Harry. Both of them leaving home only to pretty much work side by side all day. Arriving home together and working together to make dinner. Shocking, Harry enjoyed cooking and Niall was really good at it. After eating, and sometimes working together to wash up, they would fall onto the couch where they would cuddle together, which still shocked Niall, and watch television before heading to bed. This routine was great for Niall. He hadn't had any structure in his life for years. It was very well missed.

Niall also realized just how great Harry was. From day one Harry had been nothing but kind and trusting. It was a nice change for Niall. If he was being completely honest, Niall's not too sure that he would have even approached Harry if the situation had been reversed. However, He's pretty happy with how things have turned out.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” They had been sitting on Harry’s couch, basically their second home. And of course they were watching Love Actually. Once Harry had found out that Niall had never seen it, Harry made it his mission to force Niall to watch it, and then watch it again and again and again. Niall secretly loved it.

The question threw Niall off a little. He’d be lying if he said that he had never question the possibility of soulmates. “I’m undecided.” Niall almost expected Harry to show some shock of something,but he was met with understanding.

“Sometimes I am, too. I don’t see much proof of it these days, but for the most part, I think it’s out there. Or maybe I’m just incredibly optimistic.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It’s just, I know I’m not the best catch out there. And there sure isn’t anyone knocking down my door to go out with me. So, it’s a nice idea, that maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there who will love me with all of my problems.”

Sad green eyes met Niall’s and for a second Niall wanted to punch everyone who had contributed to causing Harry this pain. “Harry, shut up. How can you say any of that crap? How can you believe any of that? Harry, the day we met you offered me a place to stay. And no matter what you say, I know I can be a pain in the ass most of the time, but you’ve been nothing but kind to me. So, fuck your ‘problems’ because I like you even more because of your problems. You're so fucking strong, Harry.  And fuck anyone who has ever made you feel like you were less because of them. Just fuck ‘em.”

The anger and tears on Niall’s face was quickly replace with shock when he felt a pair of lips on his own. However, he was not too shocked to kiss Harry back, because Niall was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

When they finally separated Harry had the most beautiful smile Niall had ever seen. “Thanks, Niall.”


End file.
